


Summer Families

by SeekerSpock32



Series: Harry Potter: Golden Generation [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, F/M, Fluff, Friendship, Harry doesn't understand how much love he deserves, Harry's friends want the best for him, Implied/Referenced Additional Child Abuse, Physical child abuse but it's over quickly, Probably too many uses of "there was a pause" but it's an inside joke, References to past events I haven't written about yet, lots of hugs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-04
Updated: 2020-05-04
Packaged: 2021-03-02 01:29:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,555
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23996794
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SeekerSpock32/pseuds/SeekerSpock32
Summary: When Harry runs away after blowing up Aunt Marge, he decides to lean on his friends for help.
Relationships: Harry Potter/Ginny Weasley
Series: Harry Potter: Golden Generation [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1726438
Comments: 1
Kudos: 19





	1. Rescued Again

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Set immediately after Harry blows up Aunt Marge.
> 
> I don’t own Harry Potter.

It had been all her fault. If Aunt Marge had only let Harry be alone as his uncle had usually done, then this wouldn’t have happened. And now, she was floating in the corner of the parlour like a balloon that nobody wanted to retrieve. As soon as Marge was inflated, Harry ran up to what had once been Dudley’s second bedroom to grab his things. He’d be getting away from this. He’d had enough. 

“UNGRATEFUL BOY! YOU PUT HER BACK! YOU PUT HER RIGHT! YOU DO SO RIGHT NOW OR YOU’LL UNDERSTAND WHAT FURY MEANS!” shouted Uncle Vernon dramatically from beyond the door, but Harry didn’t care. Threats like this bounced off Harry because he heard them so frequently. And Uncle Vernon tried too hard to be scary that it came across as comical, despite the results, which were anything but. Even if Harry could put Aunt Marge back to her normal size, he wouldn’t. She had made him stay within earshot at all times and done nothing all week except insult him and his parents. It was almost as if that was the entire purpose of her visit.

“DIDN’T YOU HEAR ME, BOY?!” bellowed Uncle Vernon, really overselling it, but Harry ignored him. Harry gathered his things. He was going away. Far away. Where they couldn’t find him.

“ _Wait, no_ ,” he thought. Harry had used magic. He’d been warned the previous year. He’d be expelled for this, and then he’d never get to go back to Hogwarts again. He’d have to run for it. ” _Someone would take me in, right?_ ” he thought. 

Harry was brought back to the present when he heard the sound of locks being unlocked. Uncle Vernon was coming into the room, whether Harry liked it or not. 

“YOU’D BETTER BE READY TO EXPLAIN YOURSELF, BOY!” boomed Uncle Vernon. Harry, remembering how Ron, Fred, and George had rescued him last year, moved as close to the window and as far away from the door as he could. The last lock clicked, and Harry’s bedroom door flew open and crashed into the adjacent wall, the door handle leaving behind an impressive dent. Harry stood confidently in the back of the room, trying to look intimidating. 

“Well?” asked Uncle Vernon, purple in the face.

“She deserved what she got,” said Harry angrily, “If you’d have convinced her to let me out of her sight for maybe an hour at a time, then maybe this wouldn’t have happened. But no, your sister is boss for everyone in her presence including those she barely even knows. No wonder that Colonel Fubster bloke doesn’t want to marry her.” 

Harry felt satisfied in what he’d just said, even though he knew what the results would be. 

“My sister was a guest, and even a freak like you knows not to treat guests like that, boy!” said Uncle Vernon, growing louder and even more purple in the face. 

“Maybe _you_ shouldn’t treat guests that way, either,”

Uncle Vernon looked livid.

“If you had just let me stay away from her, let me hide in my room, make no noise, and pretend I don’t exist,” said Harry, “I guarantee I would’ve kept my head about myself. She brought that on herself. Maybe you should consider yourself lucky I’ve never done that to you after all these years. Maybe I should’ve. You’ve proven you can’t stand up for yourself.” Harry knew what was coming but still felt satisfied in what he’d said.

Uncle Vernon was incensed. He ran over to Harry and hit him hard in the chin, sending Harry’s glasses flying. Harry could barely see but he certainly felt Uncle Vernon hit him a second, third, and fourth time, and then he stopped. 

Harry knew he had put up with this for long enough. Earlier when he told Aunt Marge he’d been beaten ‘loads of times’ at St. Brutus’s, he was telling the truth about the activity but lying about the location. 

“I’m leaving,” said Harry furiously, feeling around for his glasses. Luckily they’d landed on his bed. He pulled them back on. 

“Well then, you’re not welcome back here, let me tell you that, boy. Oh wait, you’re not allowed to use magic outside school. Ha! They won’t let you back in now, will they? Well, you can go, boy. You’ll starve on the streets in a week,” said Uncle Vernon, “If you’re leaving you have twenty minutes to do so, and then I’m forcing you out with whatever you’ve got packed. Anything that isn’t packed will end up in a skip.” 

Uncle Vernon left the room at once, laughing to himself. Harry went to work, packing all the clothes he owned, followed by all of his magical equipment. His holly wand, his quills and parchment, his books with what homework he’d been able to do in secret over the summer, his father’s invisibility cloak, his Nimbus 2000, Hedwig and her cage, the scrapbook compiled for him by Hagrid at the end of his first year, an enchanted drawing Ginny had sent him on his birthday of him slaying the basilisk, and anything else that mattered to him. Somewhat miraculously, this was within the twenty minutes allotted to him by Uncle Vernon. When those minutes had elapsed, Harry was coming down the steps, his trunk making loud thumps on every step. Harry was almost trying to damage the steps in this house he no longer wished to live in. 

“Good luck out there, boy. A beggar within the month is your best case scenario,” said Uncle Vernon, smiling sadistically. Aunt Petunia and Dudley were looking astonished and somewhat relieved to see Harry go. 

“I don’t care. Anywhere is better than here,” said Harry, not even bothering to look at his uncle. 

Harry pulled his trunk out the front door and stepped onto Privet Drive. He looked back at the house, and hoped that this might be the final time he’d see it. As he looked back, Harry saw Uncle Vernon violently close the shutters on the window to the parlour. And like a year ago, Harry was now faced with the prospect of not being able to return to Hogwarts.

Harry turned to his left and walked toward Magnolia Crescent, not knowing where he’d actually go. He then had a thought,

“ _Hermione. She’ll know what to do. And even if I’m expelled, Fulham is only a thirty minutes’ drive away so I could stay there for the night.”_

Harry sat down in front of a neighbouring house and pulled a piece of parchment, a quill, ink, and an envelope out of his trunk. 

He wrote, 

_Dear Hermione,_

_I accidentally used magic and caused my uncle’s horrible sister to inflate and float around like a balloon. My uncle kicked me out of the house. Well, sort of. It was half that, half me running away._

_Because I used magic, I’m probably going to be expelled from Hogwarts. I haven’t gotten an owl saying so yet, but they warned me very clearly when Dobby came a year ago. As far as I know, you live closer to me than any of my friends. Can I stay at your home for the night? I’m sorry this is on such short notice, but I’m trying to work out what’ll happen to me because of what just happened._

_You’re the best at keeping your head in a logistical crisis like this, so you can probably talk me down from the panic and anger I’m feeling right now. If you and your parents don’t have a space for me, that’s fine. If so, I’ll make my way to Diagon Alley and try to extract money from my Gringotts vault and make my way from there. If you can give me space for just the night, that‘s all I think I need._

_Again, terribly sorry this is on such short notice and sorry as to how incoherent this letter probably is, but this all happened really quickly. Please write back as soon as you can. If you can come get me, I’ll be waiting at the corner of Magnolia Crescent and Privet Drive, Little Whinging, Surrey._

_Hoping you’re well,_

_Harry_

“She’ll understand,” Harry said aloud to himself. He put the letter in an envelope and opened Hedwig’s cage. 

“Take this to Thirty-Two Pillich Street, Fulham, London. Quickly, please,” Harry said to Hedwig. Hedwig took the letter and flew off with urgency. 

“ _It’s a short journey,”_ Harry thought. He picked up his belongings and moved toward the corner of Magnolia Crescent and Privet Drive. Once he got there, he sat back down. 

In his mind’s eye, Harry saw Hogwarts. He saw the Gryffindor Common Room, the Great Hall, Hagrid’s wooden hut, the Quidditch pitch, and the various classrooms he had known for two years. These classes, both the good and the bad, had been an integral part of Harry’s life since he’d learned he was a wizard. This castle was his one true home in a way that Number Four Privet Drive never would be. The people he’d be leaving behind now that he was undoubtedly expelled. He’d never get to talk to Dean Thomas about their unique shared love of football and quidditch again. Dean’s team West Ham had moved up into what they were calling the Premier League now, and West Ham would get to play Tottenham Hotspur, the team Harry supported, and they couldn’t both express their mutual dislike of Chelsea, who the Dursleys supported. He’d never get to see Seamus Finnigan or Neville Longbottom again, and they were some of the most loyal people he’d ever known. Neville had shown such promise the previous year, venturing into the Forbidden Forest on his own volition and being the lookout at the entrance to the Chamber of Secrets while Harry, Ron, and Lockhart went down there. He’d never have the talks or tea with Hagrid again or see the big, friendly boar hound called Fang. He’d avoid seeing Draco Malfoy, and that might be the only positive of not going back to Hogwarts again. Fred and George were two of Harry’s favourite people and they hadn’t been able to help him this time like they had a year ago. He’d never get to see Ron and Hermione again, if Hermione’s family wasn’t able to help him. There were so many memories with Ron and Hermione to be nostalgic about that Harry couldn’t think of what to start with.

Arguably worst of all, Harry wouldn’t be able to see Ginny Weasley, the girl who Harry had a crush on for just under a year at this point. Harry had promised to Ginny last year that he would try to be better friends with her this year, in the wake of what had happened to her in the Chamber of Secrets. Hermione had insisted Harry tell Ginny about his feelings for her, as it was more than a little obvious that Ginny fancied him. Yet, Harry had let her become distant and absorbed into Tom Riddle’s diary. This year, even if nothing came of his feelings for her, Harry would still try and be a better friend. That had been the plan until Aunt Marge’s big mistake. But now, unless nothing short of a miracle happened Harry would be expelled, and he’d be lucky to see Ginny or any of her many brothers again.

Harry sat for thirty minutes, lost in thought about the places and friends he wouldn’t be able to return to when he felt a tug at the nape of his neck. Hedwig was back with a letter that wasn’t even in an envelope. Harry removed it from Hedwig’s beak. Hermione’s reply was on regular paper and clearly in just a normal pen and not quill ink. She’d plainly been in a hurry. It was as if Hermione had written this letter on her lap, so her handwriting was not at her usual best. 

_Dear Harry,_

_you can absolutely stay with my family for the night and for as long as you need to figure out where you’ll land after all this. My parents would be ok with taking care of you, even if they’re at work a lot of the time. By the time you see this, my dad and I are already in our car and we’ll take you back to Fulham with us. We’ll get to Little Whinging as quickly as we can, though I anticipate Hedwig will still beat us there. Traffic’s never good on a Friday night._

_You’ll make it through this, Harry. Trust me. We’ll get to you soon._

_Love,_

_Hermione_

Harry gave a big sigh. Hermione’s letter lifted his spirits. He could stay at the Grangers’ for as long as he needed to, though he didn’t want to be a burden on them. Even if he was expelled from Hogwarts, Hermione would be of help. She always was.

Harry suddenly heard a low growling. He looked to his left and saw a large black dog crossing Magnolia Crescent, looking squarely at him the whole time. Harry thought this was odd, but didn’t think too much of it. The dog started walking toward him, but then a bin lorry drove by and honked at the dog. The dog walked on and into the bushes, out of sight.

Not ten minutes later, a black sedan pulled up on Privet Drive behind Harry. It was Hermione and her father. The car came to a stop, and Hermione, her hair as bushy as ever, jumped out of the passenger seat. 

“Harry!” she yelled, and came running toward him, giving him quite a strong hug. Harry hugged her back. It was good to still have a friend who he could reach in a crisis.

“Good to see you, Hermione. Thank you so much for coming,” said Harry gratefully, and the driver’s door of the sedan closed. 

“You must be Harry Potter,” said Hermione’s dad. Harry let go of Hermione. Hermione’s dad was about as tall as Professor Snape but was at least ten years older and far more friendly-looking. He had the same hair and eye colour that Hermione did. He had perhaps the most genial appearance of anyone Harry had ever seen, rivaled only by Mr. Weasley.

“That’s right,” said Harry. 

“Simon Granger,” said Hermione’s father cheerfully, and he came to shake Harry’s hand. “Hermione’s told us loads about you. How come you’ve never asked to visit before? Our doors are open to any friend of Hermione’s,” he added. 

“My aunt and uncle,” said Harry glumly, regretting that he’d even had to acknowledge them again.

“They’re dreadful to him, Dad,” said Hermione, “they still don’t let him do anything that gives him the slightest enj- hang on." she was going to continue, but she had noticed that Harry’s chin was bruised. Her jaw and eyebrows dropped and some of the colour drained from her face. 

“Harry, what happened to your face?” she asked seriously, but she already knew the answer. 

“Uncle Vernon wasn’t too happy about what happened to Marge,” understated Harry, only realising now that his face must be bruised. 

“What? No! No! No!” shouted Hermione, “Why does Dumbledore keep allowing you to be sent back here? Oh, Harry!” Hermione pulled Harry into an even tighter hug than the first. Harry felt his shoulders get closer together. 

“Your guess is as good as mine, Hermione,” said Harry, “but I’d like to not be here in case they change their mind about me leaving.” 

“Of course, Harry,” said Mr. Granger, and with that, the three of them lifted Harry’s trunk and Hedwig’s cage into the boot of the car. Harry got into the backseat of the Grangers’ car and Hermione and Mr. Granger got into the front. They closed the doors and they were off. Harry looked back at Privet Drive, hoping he’d never have to see it again. The conversation turned to Aunt Marge. Hermione and Mr. Granger calmly listened as Harry told them about the terrible week with Aunt Marge, and the warning he’d gotten the previous year from the Ministry. 

“They can’t expel you, they just can’t. You didn’t do that on purpose, and she was egging you on. You don’t even know how you did it,” said Hermione. 

“I haven’t received any information supporting or denying my expulsion,” said Harry, “my guess is the Ministry is too busy looking for Sirius Black.” 

“Sirius Black? I remember Jill Dando mentioning that name on the One O’Clock News,” said Mr. Granger. 

“I saw it there, too,” said Harry, “but Black is one of our kind, according to the _Daily Prophet.”_

“You get the _Prophet_?” asked Hermione, surprised.

“Ron sent a copy over once,” said Harry, “you?” 

“I’m subscribed to it now specifically because of Sirius Black,” said Hermione, “anyone who kills twelve Muggles at once or is capable of breaking out of Azkaban is worth keeping an eye on.” 

Harry didn’t know about this twelve-Muggle killing, but he didn’t share this. 

“But if you aren’t expelled, Harry, Dumbledore can’t let you go back there. Not with all the abuse for twelve years and certainly not if your uncle has hit you,” said Hermione, crying slightly. She had turned around in her seat to face Harry.

“Where would I go? I don’t want to be a burden on your family and the Weasleys have seven other _actual_ children who deserve their parents’ love before I would,” said Harry.

“Two, soon to be three of those children are already of age, and the other four are some of the closest friends you’ve got. Plus, Ginny is one of them, Harry. She wouldn’t mind being with you a lot,” said Hermione encouragingly.

“Hush, you,” said Harry playfully but his mood returned to shame, “I don’t know if I’m worth the long-term effort.”

If Hermione hadn’t been sitting a row in front of Harry, she would have given him another tight hug just then. 

“Oh Harry, the only reason you think that is because your aunt and uncle have never properly taken care of you. It’s just that the additional care to allow you to feel properly loved would be so much next to what you’ve ever gotten from them that it only seems like a burden by comparison. You really aren’t,” said Hermione.

“We’re willing to give you food, shelter, and anything else for as long as you need, Harry,” said Mr. Granger.

“Thanks, Mr. Granger,” said Harry. 

The drive had been so short Harry was surprised when the car stopped in a short driveway. It was a narrow house, not too much smaller than the Dursleys’ connected to other houses but there was a clear demarcation as to where the Grangers’ property ended and that of other families’ began. 

“Mum’s been keen to meet you, Harry,” said Hermione, getting out of the car. Harry got out of the car and grabbed his trunk. The door to the Grangers’ house swung open and Hermione’s mother came out. Her hair was as bushy as her daughter’s, but most of the way through greying. Like her husband, Mrs. Granger gave off an immediate air of friendliness. 

“You must be Harry Potter,” she said with a smile, “Ellen Granger.” 

Harry nodded. “I am,” he said warmly. 

“I’ve got the guest room all ready to go,” said Mrs. Granger, smiling. Harry was very impressed. He checked his watch. It was only just over an hour after he walked out of Number Four, Privet Drive.

“I’d have used magic to make one, but-“ started Hermione, but she realised that maybe that wasn’t the best thing to say. None of them knew whether Harry would be expelled or not. 

“It’s ok, Hermione,” Harry said, reassuringly. Mr. Granger took Harry’s trunk inside, and Harry and Hermione followed him. Hermione’s house reminded Harry a lot of the Dursleys’, only far more cozy and welcoming. The layout of the house was rather similar. 

“Again, Harry, I must reiterate. Stay as long as you need to,” said Mr. Granger, “You’ve been put in a dreadfully unfair situation by the people who are supposed to be your family.”

“We promise you that you are not a burden,” Mrs. Granger added. Harry nodded. 

Harry came to it at last, the Grangers’ house was exactly what the Dursleys’ should have been. The Dursleys had made their home (and their entire existence) so average that it had become sterile and unnatural. The Grangers, while still much closer to what the Dursleys would call normal, embraced their eccentricities enough that the Dursleys would never think it so. If anything, Hermione’s name alone was only the first proof of the Grangers’ foibles. There were dentistry awards and drawings of Hermione’s childhood all over the kitchen and corridors, and the parlour had a small piano that had been played so much that fingerprints were practically worn into the keys. The parlour also held a large banner for Fulham Football Club. Many of the corridor walls were painted purple.

“Come Harry, I’ll show you the guest room,” said Hermione. She led him up the steps and to the right. If this had been the Dursleys’ house, she’d have led him right back to Dudley’s second bedroom. The layouts of the houses were basically identical. Unlike the rest of the house that he had seen, the guest room was painted yellow. There was a bed that Harry imagined he’d never grow tall enough to overstretch, with the sheets pulled away near the head of the bed. They heard several thunks behind them and turned around. Mr. Granger had come up the steps with Harry’s trunk. 

“There you go, Harry,” he said, and reentered the upstairs corridor. Just then, there was a very loud whiplike CRACK from outside and seconds later, the doorbell rang. 

“Dear me, it’s nearly nine o’clock. Who’d come calling this late?” said Mr. Granger. Harry and Hermione shrugged at each other. The doorbell rang again, and Mr. Granger went to answer it. There was a pause while Harry and Hermione strained to listen, when Mr. Granger called up.

“Harry, this is for you!” he said. Harry took a deep breath and went downstairs. Hermione followed him, but stayed a few steps above the ground floor. Harry was truly shocked at who the visitor was. It was a man in a lime green bowler hat, a man he’d only seen once before, and that was when he was under the invisibility cloak with Ron and Neville last year. It was Cornelius Fudge, Minister of Magic himself, in a Muggle dwelling. The contrast could not have been more apparent unless Fudge had shown up at the Dursleys’.

“Harry Potter, my name is Cornelius Fudge, I’m the Minister for Magic. Pleasure to meet you at last,” he said genially, “You will be pleased to hear that we have dealt with the unfortunate blowing-up of Miss Marjorie Dursley. Two members of the Accidental Magic Reversal Squad were dispatched to Privet Drive less than an hour ago. Miss Dursley has been properly punctured and her memory has been modified. She has no recollection of the incident at all. So that's that, and no harm done.” Fudge said with a smile. 

“Sir, I don’t understand. I broke the law. Underage wizards aren’t allowed to use magic,” said Harry, thunderstruck. 

“Come now, Harry. It was an accident. Happens to the best of us,” said Fudge. Harry thought it a bit presumptuous that the man who had sent Hagrid to Azkaban with no evidence, albeit briefly, used the phrase “the best of us” so casually. “We don’t send people to Azkaban for blowing up their aunt,” he finished. Fudge chuckled to himself at the absurdity of the sentence he had just said.

“On the other hand, running away from your aunt and uncle’s house was most irresponsible of you, Harry. I cannot express how much you should not have done so,” said Fudge, turning serious.

"NO! You're not taking him back there!" called Hermione.

Hermione rushed down the remaining stairs, making loud thuds with every step. 

“See that bruise, Minister? If he’d stayed there would be more of them and they’d be worse,” said Hermione defensively, pointing to the bruise on Harry’s chin. 

“But, Miss Granger, what happened to Harry there is a literal mere scratch compared to what could have happened had he run into Sirius Black,” said Fudge.

“A mere scratch that shouldn’t be there at all,” retorted Hermione. 

“Save it, Hermione. What does Sirius Black have to do with me?” asked Harry. 

Fudge paused for a moment, but finally said, “Nothing at all, Harry. Why would it? It’s just that Black is on the loose and it could have been a dangerous situation.” 

“It’s summer and it never gets that dark here during the summer. If I'd come across him, I could see him just fine. I can keep my wits about me; I’m sure you know that by now,” Harry assented. 

“Darkness isn’t what I’d worry about, Harry. Sirius Black killed 13 people in broad daylight,” Fudge replied.

Harry couldn’t fault him for his logic on that, but also felt like Fudge wasn’t telling him the truth. Yet, now was not the time to press the issue.

“What matters is you’re safe here. If you’d run away with no intended destination, that would have been much worse. Even if running away was irresponsible, you’ll be safe here, too. I admit I had come here to take you back, but Miss Granger's protests will give me pause on that for now. Dumbledore knows you’re here too, Harry, and if Mr. and Mrs. Granger wouldn’t mind, Professor Dumbledore will be placing temporary magical protections around their house until Harry returns to Hogwarts at the end of the month,” he said and then turned to Mr. and Mrs. Granger, “Don’t you two fret about those magical protections. Since you two are Muggles, you won’t even notice them and they won’t interfere with your daily lives. Your neighbours will also not notice them. We witches and wizards are quite adept at staying unnoticed.” 

Mr. and Mrs. Granger nodded. Harry wondered what the Dursleys would think if their house was magically protected, which he now suspected was the reason he had to return to them every year. Until now. If he never had to return to the Dursleys, he would love it, but he certainly didn’t want to overstay his welcome with the Grangers. 

“Well, I shall leave you. I’ve said all I need to and everything is under control. Good evening to you all,” said Fudge. He tipped his hat, and left the house. There was another loud CRACK and he was gone. There was a short silence as Harry, Hermione, and Mr. and Mrs. Granger stood in the hallway. 

“The rest of the month? It’s only the sixth! You’re sure about that?” asked Harry. 

“Absolutely,” said Mrs. Granger, with no trace of hesitation. 

“Four days fewer, Harry,” said Hermione, “The Weasleys have invited you and I to meet them in Diagon Alley four days before the train leaves. We can share rooms in the Leaky Cauldron, you with Ron and me with Ginny.” 

Harry’s heart fluttered at the thought of four days with plenty of time to talk to Ginny Weasley, if Ginny’s parents or Ron would let him. 

“You two should get up to bed, then,” said Mrs. Granger, “I imagine Harry’s had a long day and it’s not like we sat around doing nothing, either.” 

Hermione yawned. 

“Thank you again, Mr. and Mrs. Granger,” said Harry. 

“No worries, Harry,” said Mrs. Granger. 

Harry and Hermione went up the stairs.

“You need to tell me more about your summer, Hermione,” said Harry. 

“Tomorrow morning. I’m quite knackered,” said Hermione, “Goodnight, Harry.” She turned, yawned, and headed towards her own bedroom.

“Good night, Hermione,” said Harry. Hermione entered her room and closed the door behind her. 

Harry entered the guest bedroom and pulled on his pyjamas. From behind the door he heard Hermione’s parents talking. 

“He really is quite lovely,” said Mr. Granger. 

“It’s a shame we’ll both be in the office and not get to talk to him more,” said Mrs. Granger. 

Then the door to a room next to his closed, and he couldn’t hear anything else. 

“ _I’m going back to Hogwarts,”_ thought Harry, “ _I’ll get to see Ron, Fred, George, and Ginny again. I can finally stop being a prat and tell Ginny I like her.”_

With that thought, Harry fell asleep in the bed a few minutes later. It was a night of sleep better than the overwhelming majority of those after twelve years spent at Number Four, Privet Drive. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If anyone knows how to get rid of some of the extra space between the lines, please let me know because it's really bugging me.
> 
> Also, if there's a way to do blockquotes outside of the HTML setting, please let me know. I'm very new to actually posting here and this whole idea was probably too ambitious for my first time writing.


	2. Temporary Families

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everyone Harry already knows wants him to know he's worth the effort of being loved.

For the rest of August, Harry received a glimpse of what the Dursleys might have been to him, had they ever cared for him. He felt familiar with the Grangers’ house even though he’d never been there as it was so similar to that of the Dursleys. All of the Grangers welcomed Harry as if he were part of their family in a way that only the Weasleys had done before. Unlike the Dursleys who spoiled Dudley to spite Harry, the Grangers didn’t spoil Hermione, but they still loved her, even with her differences from them. Harry imagined that, based on the description by Aunt Petunia two years prior, that Hermione’s parents’ attitude was the same as Harry’s grandparents, that he had also never met. As knowledgeable as Hermione was about the wizarding world, she was still very much an outsider to it, but Harry observed she was also a bit of an outsider in the Muggle world, just like he was. 

Even though Mr. and Mrs. Granger had only just met Harry the previous night, they took care of him admirably when they were there. They usually weren’t there, as they were usually in their office attending to their patients’ teeth. How Hermione still had two large buck teeth despite her parents both being dentists Harry did not know, and he thought it would be quite rude to ask. 

While Mr. and Mrs. Granger were attending their patients, Harry and Hermione had plenty of time to talk about what had happened over the summer and what they anticipated doing back at Hogwarts. The morning after Harry had arrived at the Grangers, Harry and Hermione were sitting in the parlour with the piano and the giant banner for Fulham Football Club, on sofas of spring green. 

“What electives did you sign up for this year?” asked Harry.

“All of them,” said Hermione, calmly. 

“That’ll come to twelve classes. You’re mental, you know that?” asked Harry. 

“Oh, it’ll be quite alright,” said Hermione calmly. 

“Ancient Runes? Arithmancy? I don’t even know what Arithmancy is,” said Harry, looking at a list she had produced from her pocket.

“A fascinating subject, and you’ll be missing out, Harry,” said Hermione, “but enough about school-” 

Harry couldn’t suppress a laugh. 

“Sorry,” said Harry, still laughing. Hermione took this in good humour. After he finished laughing, Hermione continued. 

“Have you heard at all from Ginny over the summer?” she asked. 

“A couple of times,” said Harry, blushing slightly, “she wrote to me on my birthday like you and Ron did.” 

“What’d she say?” said Hermione, leaning in with interest.

“It was a letter with a lot of nice things. I kept it with me when I left the Dursleys,” said Harry, smiling widely. 

“That’s cute,” said Hermione, also smiling. 

“That wasn’t all,” said Harry, “she also sent a birthday card that started singing.” Harry laughed.

“Like that Valentine?” asked Hermione, giggling.

“No, no dwarves this time, thank God. It was just an actual card. I suspect Fred and George may have made it. It was really shrill and loud, and I opened it in the middle of the night, like an idiot. You can imagine how the Dursleys reacted to that,” said Harry, laughing at first, but then turning to a frown. 

“They didn’t hit you then… did they?” asked Hermione, who had not expected the mood to shift so suddenly. 

“Uncle Vernon said it would wake up half the neighborhood, and for once, he had a point. He ripped the card to shreds and tossed it into the bins,” said Harry, dodging the question, but Hermione caught him. She took his wrist in her hand.

“That didn’t answer the question, Harry,” replied Hermione. Harry sighed. 

_ “Well, she already knows that he hit me. Might as well tell all. No, she’ll get too worried if I say so, and with twelve classes, she’s got enough to be getting on with. No, she’ll be even more worried if I say nothing.”  _ Harry thought.

“Yes,” Harry stated, looking at the Fulham banner instead of Hermione. He repeated what he had said to Aunt Marge; “I’ve been beaten loads of times, by my cousin and my uncle.” 

Hermione, tears leaking from her eyes, leapt up from her chair and gave Harry a hug that could only be rivaled by the hug he’d received from Mrs. Weasley just after he’d saved Ginny last year. “Oh, Harry, how can you say that so plainly?” she said into his shoulder. 

“It was one of the worst ones all summer,” said Harry, knowing this information would only further sadden Hermione, but someone besides him needed to know this. And if Harry had told any of the Weasleys, they’d make a fuss and get Dumbledore or the Ministry down onto the Dursleys, and Harry thought there was no need for such a disturbance.

“ _ One _ of the worst ones?” asked Hermione, crying even more. “Oh Harry, if you don’t want to tell me any more I’ll understand. You don’t need to relive the trauma.”

“No, someone needs to know,” said Harry, consolingly. 

“The worst was when Ron tried to call on the phone in the first week of July,” said Harry, starting to laugh again, “He clearly didn’t know how phones work and yelled so loudly that it made Uncle Vernon jump. It was really funny until Uncle Vernon slammed the phone down onto the table, and you might be able to guess the rest,”

“Ron told me about that moment. He warned me not to call because he knew he’d gotten you into trouble, but I couldn’t even imagine your uncle beating you, Harry,” said Hermione.

“Hermione, you’re the smartest person I know, and yet you can be remarkably naïve sometimes,” said Harry, “I think he did that so as to make me feel like anyone contacting me was a bad thing; that I don’t deserve friends. And it’s not just the beatings. Those don’t even happen that often. I’m sure Ron, Fred, or George mentioned how they were starving me. That’s just as dangerous.”

Hermione sat there blankly, just listening to her friend.

“Hermione, you started making things happen that you didn’t understand before you got your letter, right?” 

She nodded.

“Did anyone call you a freak?”

“A few people. Never my parents.”

“Imagine that happening to you as long as your memories go back, from the only people you see on a regular basis.” Harry said morosely, “that’s what living with the Dursleys is like.” 

“I know, and Harry… I’m so sorry. If you don’t ask Dumbledore to have you moved somewhere else this summer... I will. My parents would love to have you,” said Hermione, her face stained with tears. She hugged him again. 

“Don’t be sorry, you had nothing to do with it, but I really do appreciate the sentiment,” said Harry, “Can we go back to talking about Ginny? I liked that.” 

“Before we do, I truly mean it. My parents wouldn’t mind having you,” said Hermione, before sitting back up.

“I get it,” said Harry, desperately wanting to stop talking about the Dursleys, “You were asking me about Ginny.” 

“Yes, did you write her back after your birthday?” asked Hermione. 

“Yes, I thanked her, but it probably wasn’t very coherent, and I definitely didn’t tell her about what happened after the card.” said Harry, staring again back into his lap, red in the face. 

“Probably for the best,” replied Hermione, “her birthday is in four days, are you planning on doing anything for her?” 

“Oh, wow, I hadn’t realised her birthday was so soon after mine,” said Harry, turning a bit redder, “I can’t use magic outside school, certainly not after yesterday.” 

“You could write her a letter saying something that’s on your mind. That’d make her day,” Hermione suggested and she promptly winked. Harry cringed.

“First, please don’t ever wink at me again, Hermione,” remarked Harry, both surprised and disappointed that she had done this, “second, I know what you’re thinking, and while I appreciate that you’re encouraging me to do so, I’m not going to tell Ginny that I like her in a letter.” 

“Then do so when we meet the Weasleys in Diagon Alley,” said Hermione, as if Harry was a horse she was trying to get to move, “The two of you could go to Florean Fortescue’s ice cream parlour.” 

“In front of Ron? Are you mad?” asked Harry. 

“Oh, Harry. The entire year at Hogwarts can be defined as ‘in front of Ron,’ so you really need to get over that. He’ll get over himself not liking it; I promise,” said Hermione. 

There was a pause.

“Harry, I never showed you my room last night; we were all very tired. Would you like to see it?” 

“Of course,” said Harry, and they left the parlour. Hermione led him up the stairs and turned to the left. If this were still the Dursley house, this would have been Dudley’s bedroom, though it could not be more different. 

Hermione’s bedroom was painted midnight blue with simple stars of white, contrasted by scarlet and gold pennants for Gryffindor and black and a white banner for Fulham Football Club. Harry was impressed by the Grangers’ undying love of Fulham FC given the club’s woeful performance in recent years, and they were in a completely different division from Tottenham Hotspur, so there was no rivalry between Harry and Hermione’s chosen football teams. Hermione’s room was rather simple otherwise. Harry thought it odd that someone who was skilled in magic had not bothered to enhance it with her own personal touches when she had magic. Even if she was not allowed to use magic, her parents knew about magic. It would not be breaking any secrecy. 

“It’s not much, but it’s home,” said Hermione, strangely exactly how Ron had described the Burrow last year, even though she wasn’t there to hear it. 

“Still prefer football to Quidditch, I see?” asked Harry. 

“Fulham’s not great at the moment, but it reminds me of home, and when you have people calling you ‘Mudblood,’ you start wanting parts of home back,” said Hermione. 

“I see. Though Hogwarts is my home and the Dursleys didn’t really allow me to have many personal touches from Hogwarts, as you might guess,” said Harry. 

“We could get you something Spurs-related if you wanted to, then the Gryffindor boys’ dormitory will have two football banners. Just think what Malfoy would say about two Muggle football teams’ banners adorning the walls of Hogwarts,” suggested Hermione.

“I’ll think about that. It’s weird to love both sports as much as I do,” replied Harry.

The two of them left the room and returned to the parlour and talked for a while. For the next few days, Harry found that while there wasn’t much to do at the Granger house, he felt more welcome there than any other places beside the Burrow and Hogwarts. Hermione showed Harry some of her favorite places in Fulham. He’d never been there before, as the Dursleys had never taken him anywhere they didn’t have to. Harry imagined the temper tantrum that Dudley would be throwing if Harry was being shown places around any locale. As promised, Hermione took Harry to a place where he could purchase a pennant for Tottenham Hotspur. Hermione helped Harry prepare for talking to Ginny, which slightly improved Harry’s internal hopes that he wouldn’t mess up. Harry had several interesting talks with the Grangers when they were home at supper time. It was quite refreshing to be able to talk about school outside of school. The Grangers took Harry to a Fulham match, which Fulham lost, but it was fun all the same. 

A few days after Harry arrived at the Grangers, Ginny’s birthday arrived and Harry penned her a letter. Hermione made sure Harry didn’t write anything too awkward. 

_ Dear Ginny,  _

_ First of all, Happy Birthday. Hope it is a splendid one. Here’s to a year without trouble, if that’s possible. Trouble seems to find us and our friends even when we’re avoiding it. _

_ Thanks again for the note you sent on my birthday about two weeks ago, as well as the drawing. Don’t feel bad about the singing card. I thought it was quite endearing. My uncle didn’t, but he doesn’t have moral authority on anything. _

_ Looking forward to seeing you, Ron, your brothers, and your parents at Diagon Alley in two weeks. I’ve especially missed you and Ron.  _

_ I was wondering if I could spend a bit of time with you, perhaps at Florean Fortescue’s Ice Cream Parlour. I felt bad about how Ron, Hermione, and I weren’t as supportive of you in your first year at Hogwarts. Hermione and I have agreed that we should start getting to know you a bit better than we did last year. Since you got me a birthday present, I’d like to do the same in Diagon Alley but I don’t have access to magical stuff. There’s a few other things I’d like to talk about that I’d much rather say face-to-face instead of through a letter. Sorry if that’s leaving you guessing, but I’m not sure how to say things like this. _

_ Hope you’re doing well. Looking forward to returning to Hogwarts. See you soon. _

_ Love, _

_ Harry. _

“I think that’s quite lovely, Harry,” said Hermione after she read it. 

“Once again, you make a paper I write much better,” said Harry. He gave the letter to Hedwig, who nipped at him impatiently. It was far harder for Hedwig to hunt in the slightly more urban neighborhoods of Fulham than the suburban Little Whinging. 

Hedwig left through the parlour window, and flew off. 

Two days later, Ginny’s reply came in the mail. It was clear that great care had been taken to write this letter. Her handwriting was impeccable. 

_ Dear Harry, _

_ Thanks for the birthday wishes.  _

_ You don’t need to get me a birthday present, Harry. You saved my life. In my mind, that might be enough for quite some time.  _

_ As for spending some time with you at Diagon Alley, I’d love to, though I doubt Percy or Ron would let it slide. They’d find a way to make sure we couldn’t just talk by ourselves. Honestly, even if it’s you, Ron, Hermione, and I at the ice cream parlour, I would still enjoy that. If we can talk some other time, it would be tricky, but achievable.  _

_ I’m also looking forward to a trouble-free year at Hogwarts, though I too doubt if that’s possible.  _

_ Looking forward to seeing you soon. _

_ Love,  _

_ Ginny _

As the weeks passed, boredom gradually began to set in with both Harry and Hermione, but luckily, it was around that time that the Weasleys’ invitation to Harry and Hermione would be fulfilled.

Finally, the morning of the 28th of August came. The day that Harry and Hermione would join the Weasleys in Diagon Alley. Harry and Hermione had packed their trunks the night before, and the Granger parents drove Harry and Hermione to Charing Cross, where the Leaky Cauldron was. Harry and Hermione’s Hogwarts letters came the night before, as if Dumbledore knew their plans. 

“Hermione, we’ll stop by at King’s Cross at a quarter to eleven on the 1st of September to see you off,” said Mrs. Granger, still in the car.

“Don’t you want to come with us? You’ve been in Diagon Alley before,” said Hermione.

“If we’re not there, your not-so-friendly peers will have less of a reason to pick on you, Hermione,” said Mr. Granger, who came around the back and gave Hermione a hug.

“I could never be ashamed of you two,” said Hermione, looking shocked. “I’m proud to be your daughter, and nothing that child Malfoy says will convince me otherwise.”

“We’re proud of you, too,” said Mrs. Granger, who got out of the car and joined her husband in the hug.

“Now have some fun for a few days, Hermione,” said Mr. Granger. Harry felt quite awkward being there so he said nothing. 

“Thanks, Dad,” said Hermione. 

“Lovely getting to know you, Harry,” said Mrs. Granger after she let go of her daughter.

“Thanks, Mrs. Granger,” said Harry.

“Harry, if you don’t want to go back to the Dursleys, we can take you in for summers in the future,” said Mr. Granger, “you won’t be a burden on us. I promise.”

“Thanks, Mr. Granger,” said Harry, shaking his hand, but thinking it unlikely that Dumbledore or whoever it was in control of his summer accommodations would allow this. 

The Grangers got back into their car and waved goodbye to Harry and Hermione. Hermione stared into the space that the car had occupied, deep in contemplation. Hermione was still slightly upset that her parents didn’t want her to be seen with them in Diagon Alley. Hermione hadn’t let the stigma of being Muggle-Born get to her. 

“Shall we go inside?” asked Harry.

“What? Oh, yes,” said Hermione, startled. Harry and Hermione took their trunks into the darkened Leaky Cauldron. 

Before their eyes had adjusted to the lower level of light, Harry and Hermione they saw at least three red heads of hair, then they were hugged into oblivion by Mrs. Weasley.

“Harry! Hermione! I’m so glad you made it!” she said. Harry and Hermione tried to respond but their voices both seemed to fail them under such a hug.

“Mum, let them breathe!” said Fred.

“You wouldn’t want to be so worried about them, then kill them yourself, would you?” asked George. 

Mrs. Weasley let Harry and Hermione go. She kept her eyes fixed on Harry.

“Harry, we heard why you had to leave the Dursleys. Your uncle is an atrocious human being,” she said.

“No need to tell me twice,” Harry remarked to himself.

“We’re trying to convince Dumbledore to let you stay with us over the summer, but he hasn’t responded to our owl yet,” she said, looking quite upset, seemingly unaware of Harry’s quip.

“And my parents made him a similar offer,” said Hermione, “but Harry doesn’t want to be a burden on your family or mine.” She said the words ‘a burden’ with the strongest amount of sarcasm she could muster.

“Oh, Harry, you’re not a burden,” said Mrs. Weasley, hugging him again, softer this time. 

“Thanks, Mrs. Weasley,” said Harry. Mrs. Weasley let Harry go again, and Harry finally got a long view of the interior of the Leaky Cauldron. Unlike two years ago, it was surprisingly sparsely populated, even though it was right around noon. The only people present were Mrs. Weasley, Fred, George, Tom the Innkeeper, and a patron Harry recognised from his last visit to the Leaky Cauldron called Doris Crockford. She had shaken Harry’s hand many times that day. This time, she kept her distance as Mrs. Weasley, Fred, and George were already talking to him. Ron, Ginny, Percy, and Mr. Weasley were nowhere to be seen.

“Where’s everyone else?” asked Harry. 

“Percy’s in his room doing administrative stuff,” said George. 

“Though we reckon he’s just sitting polishing his Head Boy badge,” said Fred. Mrs. Weasley looked disapprovingly at the twins. 

“Dad’s at work; he’ll join us tonight,” said George.

“Ron’s probably at Fortescue’s. We saw him there with Seamus Finnigan half an hour ago,” said Fred. 

“As for Ginny, no clue,” said George. This had been surprisingly straightforward for Fred and George. Ron and Ginny didn’t stay out of sight for long. Ron and Ginny came in from the back entrance that led out into the alley itself. There was a pause when Ginny caught Harry’s eye. At first her pupils dilated like they had last year in the Burrow, but she kept her calm and simply said, “Hi, Harry. Hi, Hermione.”

“Hi, Ginny,” said Harry and Hermione at the same time. 

“How are you two?” asked Ron, walking past his sister. 

“Good,” both Harry and Hermione replied. 

“Got away from your relatives for good, have you, Harry?” asked Fred.

“I hope so,” said Harry longingly.

“If you have to go back there and they do anything else to you, we’ll show ‘em,” said George. 

“You will do no such thing!” their mother said, “With any luck, Harry will be staying with us next summer.” Ginny blushed when she heard that. 

“Or at my house,” added Hermione, “if Dumbledore will put temporary protections on my house again.” 

“Sorry ‘bout the fellytone call, mate,” said Ron sheepishly.

“Telephone, Ron,” said Hermione.

“Anyway,” said Ron, ignoring the correction, “Hermione wrote me after you came to her house, and she said you showed up bruised in the face, and that Cornelius Fudge himself had arrived and said you should’ve stayed at your aunt and uncle’s, even though he was confronted with evidence they’d beaten you.” 

“They what?” asked Ginny, suddenly stricken with tears, “How could they? They’re supposed to give you shelter and safety!” Ginny sat down at a table and sobbed into her arms. Mrs. Weasley came by and gave her daughter comfort.

“People can be cruel to others, Ginny; it’s a sad fact of life,” she whispered. 

“And why didn’t anyone tell me about this?” asked Ginny.

“You didn’t need that on your mind, darling,” said Mrs. Weasley.

“Mum, I love you, but I’m not a baby anymore. Last year was…” Ginny trailed off. Harry started to walk towards Ginny as well, but as soon as he did, Ron spoke.

“Sorry for bringing the mood down mate, let’s show you to your rooms,” he said, trying to change the subject. Fred and George carried Harry and Hermione’s trunks up the stairs just inside the door to a narrow corridor Harry had never seen before. He’d only been in the main room the last time he was in the Leaky Cauldron. George led Harry to the room where Ron’s things already were. 

“Ginny tells me you want to talk to her about something, mate,” said George.

“That’s right,” said Harry nervously.

“You fancy her, don’t you?” said George insightfully. It was more of a statement than a question. Harry nodded. He was worried what Fred and George might do knowing Harry had a crush on Ginny, but he decided that inaction would have been just as much of a sign. George gave a knowing nod of the head as if he had already known the answer.

“That’s what you want to tell her, right?” asked George. Harry nodded again.

“Fred and I will do what we can to keep our younger brother and our older brother away from you two while you’re talking. You’ll have all the time you need,” said George mischievously.

“Oh. Thanks, George,” said Harry. 

“Don’t mention it. When do you want to tell her?” asked George.

“The last day before we leave, probably. That way we don’t have to awkwardly interact with each other afterwards if something goes wrong,” said Harry.

“Good plan,” said Fred, who had finished depositing Hermione’s trunk in Ginny’s room, “We’ll take care of the rest. Good luck, mate.”

“Good luck with what?” Ron’s voice called into the room. 

“None of your business,” said George.

“If this is about Ginny,” said Ron, looking at Harry angrily, his voice slightly rising. Ron’s face became almost as red as his hair. 

“Harry, if you put a hand on her I’ll-” said Ron.

“You’ll do nothing, that’s what,” Fred remarked.

“Harry, I need to talk to you about this on my own,” said Ron, bringing his temper under control.

“Not now, little brother,” said George condescendingly. 

“You’ve got four days to spill your feelings,” said Fred.

“And you share this room with Harry,” said George, looking back and winking at Harry. 

“Plenty of time,” finished Fred.

Ron sighed loudly and left the room. 

“You’re not going to tell anyone else, are you?” Harry asked, “I reckon your parents wouldn’t like it, either.”

“Harry, if there’s anyone you can trust with a secret-” started Fred.

“You’re looking at them,” said George.

“Ta,” said Harry happily, “I’m going to see if she’s alright.” Harry left his room followed by Fred and George. 

Harry got back downstairs to find Ginny not crying anymore, but still visibly upset. Ron was sitting next to her, so as to block Harry from doing so himself. Harry sat across from Ginny instead.

“How are you?” he asked kindly.

“It’s not me you should worry about. They can’t… they just can’t let you go back to your relatives, Harry. They just can’t. I won’t let them,” said Ginny. 

“What’re you going to do, sis?” asked Fred.

“Send them a greeting card so shrill their eardrums burst?” suggested George facetiously. Both of the twins sat down next to Harry. Fred and Ron laughed.

“There’s not really anything you can do about that, Ginny,” said Harry, “seriously, that’s quite enough about me, all of you. How are all of you doing?” 

“It’s been right annoying with Percy going on about how he’s Head Boy,” said Ron casually. Hermione came back into the room and sat down next to Ron. 

“Dreadful,” said Fred.

“Doesn’t shut up about it,” said George. 

“It’s as if his entire life was building to that badge,” said Ginny, a smile coming back onto her face. Ron, Fred, and George laughed, and Harry wondered how Percy being Head Boy would affect this year at Hogwarts. Percy had no qualms about taking points off his own house, as he did to Ron last year for being in Moaning Myrtle’s bathroom. 

“ _ Ron could tell him about Ginny and I, assuming things go well, which they very well might not. If they do, Percy might not take it well. Percy did chastise Ginny for reading the diary, and if there’s anyone other than Ron who views Ginny as the baby of the family, it’s Percy or Mrs. Weasley. But who knows? Percy might be so absorbed in Head Boy duties that he might not even notice. Of course, none of this will matter if Ginny says no,”  _ Harry thought. 

Harry then remembered that he was in the middle of a conversation. He’d worried that he’d just been staring into space, right at Ginny, but nobody’s body language indicated that this had happened or anyone had noticed. Something completely random came to Harry’s mind and he said it aloud before he could stop himself.

“How’s Scabbers?” Harry asked, thinking for a talking point. Ron was surprised. 

“Horrible, ever since Egypt. He’s been off-colour for weeks now. He’s probably in the throes of death,” said Ron.

“That’s too bad,” said Hermione sympathetically, “I’m thinking of getting a pet myself this year.” 

“Like what?” asked Ginny.

“Definitely not a toad,” said Hermione frankly, “probably not an owl, either. The Hogwarts owls are always sufficient. Maybe a cat.” Hermione turned to her left and looked away from the rest of the conversation. 

Later that night, Mr. Weasley arrived at the Leaky Cauldron. He backed up the promises made by Mrs. Weasley that he would do everything in his power to keep Harry from having to return to Number Four Privet Drive ever again. Harry appreciated the sentiment, but suspected that someone who worked in the Misuse of Muggle Artefacts office did not have the clout to sway the Minister of Magic. That is, unless he could stretch it and say Uncle Vernon’s fists were Muggle Artefacts and they were being misused, but Harry thought that this was the most ridiculous thought he’d ever conceived in his life.

When Harry went up to the room he shared with Ron, it was with some apprehension. Ron was already there. He seemed to be in a decent mood, but Harry was worried that there was something more going on.

“Alright, Ron?” he opened with.

“Fine. Just, don’t ask my sister to date you, alright? Please?” Ron replied. Harry sat down on his bed and fixed Ron with a look of confusion. 

“What is it? Do you think she’s too young? I know she’s not very subtle about how she feels sometimes.” Harry answered. 

“A bit of that. But I also don’t want my parents not to like you. When Charlie had a girlfriend, Emily Hansen, in their fourth year, she was nice but she and Mum didn’t jive. It was one of the reasons Emily and Charlie broke up,” Ron explained, “The only sibling of mine to date anyone since is Percy with Penelope Clearwater, who hasn’t met Mum yet, so that’s a Howler waiting to go off. If you go thrashing our friendship like that-” but Harry cut him off.

“I won’t. Your parents said earlier that they’d be willing to take me in as if they were one of their own. They already know me and they dote on me far more than is actually necessary,” said Harry.

“Exactly. Mum already views you like yet another son, so you dating her daughter would be really bloody weird.”

“I think she and your dad can tell the difference between the two. Is that all you’ve got?” Harry asserted impatiently.

“Almost; one more reason why I don’t like it, Harry,” Ron started, looking more serious than angry now, “After hearing how she poured herself into that diary, I’m worried she might become too absorbed into you.” There was a pause while Harry pondered what he had just heard.

“In case you haven’t noticed, Ron, I’m not attempting to drain her soul. I want to make her happy. You’ve known I’ve felt this way about her for a year now. I think you’re being too overprotective,” replied Harry kindly. Ron sighed, and Harry decided this was the best answer he would get out of Ron. 

“Just consider what I’ve said and maybe rethink this,” said Ron. 

“I consider it mostly unnecessary,” Harry quipped.

Harry laid down in his bed, and calmly said, “Goodnight, Ron.”

“Goodnight, Harry,” Ron replied. He seemed to be in an ever-so-slightly worse mood. As Harry drifted off to sleep, he hoped Ron’s mood would improve about Harry’s feelings for Ginny. Though some of Ron’s points about it were valid, Ron seemed to be putting his all into making sure it didn’t happen.

The next few days were quiet. All there was to do was gather school supplies. Despite being a magical place, Diagon Alley was very warm and most people stayed inside most of the time. Ron and Harry didn’t talk about Ginny the rest of the time, and Ron was in a better mood for it. Thankfully on the 31st of August, it cooled back to closer to average temperature. Harry could barely sleep the night before. He woke up very early and went downstairs where patrons hadn’t even arrived yet. It was 6:30. Harry sat down at the same table where he, Hermione, and the Weasleys had eaten for the last three days. 

Fred and George came down to the dining room. 

“We’ve got it all set, Harry,” said Fred.

“What have you got?”

“We stole Percy’s Head Boy badge late last night-“ started George.

“And planted it in Ron’s luggage,” finished Fred.

“All without making any noise?” asked Harry incredulously.

“We have our methods,” whispered George.

“Here’s what’ll happen,” said Fred. They alternated saying the parts of the plan as if they had rehearsed this, which they probably had.

“Percy’s usually a late riser when he doesn’t have to do anything,”

“And today is a day like that,” 

“He’ll wake up at no earlier than ten this morning,”

“And quickly notice that his precious badge is gone from the nightstand,”

“He’ll immediately turn to look through our room,”

“Because if you were him and you knew us, who would you suspect?”

“In his mind, it’s far likelier for a small object to be stolen than lost,”

“So he’ll take at least an hour turning our room upside down,”

“And inside out,” 

“Before finally realising it’s not there and checking his own room,”

“To see if perfect Percy actually lost something that could genuinely fall under a sofa,” 

“But it won’t be there, either, so he’ll go to the third likeliest option,”

“Our ickle Ronniekins,” 

“Where he’ll finally find the badge in Ron’s trunk,”

“And then he’ll go out and find Ron.” finished George. There was a pause as both twins caught their breath. 

“Now, here’s where you and Ginny come into the plan,” continued Fred after a moment.

“We anticipate Ron will be keeping an eye on the two of you today,”

“Hermione might be there, too, but she’s in favour of you,”

“Percy will find Ron and pull him away from the two of you,”

“And if Hermione is there, she’ll dismiss herself,”

“Percy will be yelling at Ron for, what do you think, Fred? Twenty minutes?”

“Around that long, giving you and Ginny time to either spill your feelings then and there,”

“Or go somewhere else and put some distance between you and the non-supportive brothers,”

“Plenty of time for you to tell Ginny that you think she’s beautiful, and her to admit the open secret that she fancies you,” 

“And they both lived”

“Happily ever after,” 

“It’s foolproof,” finished George. 

“Let’s hope so,” said Harry. 

When Percy woke up at ten in the morning, Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Ginny were sitting and chatting together at Florean Fortescue’s, even though it was far too early in the morning for ice cream. Percy, who was 17 and could do magic outside of school, saw that his badge was missing, and said, “ _ Accio badge,”  _ and Fred and George’s plan was foiled. 

Harry spent the entire day waiting for Percy to pull Ron away from him and Ginny, but that moment never came. Ron dutifully stayed with Harry, Ginny, and Hermione the whole day and Harry wasn’t able to talk to Ginny in private. 

That evening after dinner, Fred and George came back to Harry.

“Sorry, Harry,” said George.

“We forgot Percy can use magic outside school now,” said Fred.

“It’s fine, I’ll just tell her some other time,” said Harry. 

"You'll be able to," said Fred.

"We promise," said George. 

He was miffed that he hadn’t able to tell Ginny, but he knew this wasn’t going to come easily. 

_ “There’s still a full year of Hogwarts study to tell her how I feel,”  _ Harry thought, and went back to bed.

Tomorrow, Harry and the others would be going back to Hogwarts. Of course, Harry overheard Mr. and Mrs. Weasley talking about how Sirius Black was coming after him and by proxy that Fudge had lied to Harry at the Grangers’ house about this. Even so, there was no place safer than Hogwarts from outsiders, so he could still keep his mind focused on Ginny, for now. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I might do some additional short stories detailing Harry spending August with the Grangers, but that would be in a separate work and I don't have any ideas for that outside that one paragraph that mentioned the Fulham match. That would take a low priority and I've got a lot of overarching story to turn into prose, so that could be years away. 
> 
> I don't have any reason to change the scene where Harry would've overheard Mr. and Mrs. Weasley talking about Sirius Black and how he's after Harry, so I felt no reason to include it. Instead, just assume that scene plays out exactly the same way as the books, and go straight from this to Cold and Warm, the next work in the series.


End file.
